


honesty hour

by spideywhiteys



Series: 365 Days of Naruto AUs [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Gen, Introspection, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Space!!!!, kabuto has a bad personality, kisame has insomnia, space is a void that looks into you, that's it that's the fic, they do not like each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28537512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideywhiteys/pseuds/spideywhiteys
Summary: Kisame can't find peace in the endless of abyss of space. He can't sleep until he remembers what grounds his feet to a tangible reality.
Series: 365 Days of Naruto AUs [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086938
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	honesty hour

**Author's Note:**

> DAY 3: Star Trek AU ft. Insomnia / Kisame + Kabuto

The infinite expanse of space is both terrifying and exhilarating. A cold, choking world outside the safety of their ship. Only the slightest crack and they all perish, the hulking metal voyager crushed and torn like paper. Kisame does not fear death, hasn’t in a long while. In his line of work he can’t afford to freeze at the inevitably of his doom. There is no God in the clouds, only atmosphere, and beyond that—a universe that never stops expanding. 

He’s been on this ship, the USS Dawn, for almost three years now. It has a heavy human presence, the Earth-dwellers like rats or ants or a disease, scurrying across the galaxy with a hungry urgency. He wonders what exactly they’re looking for. Everything is the same out here, just in a different style. Power, politics, claims of peace. Desire, thick and syrupy and sticking to the back of fat, thirsty throats. 

He doesn’t mind some of them. Itachi is a half-human with stunning eyes and an inquisitive demeanor, he weaves tales of Earth that make Kisame think, makes him wonder if visiting is worth it. 

It isn’t fear that keeps Kisame awake.

It’s his own thoughts, his own demons—his thoughts on the universe’s demons. His room is a standard bunk size, sleek white and curved edges; modern human design. There’s no window to peer out of, but there is a holographic screen he can throw across the wall. It creates a pretty lie for him to stare at when the white begins to feel like a prison cell. His neighbors are both red-shirted security personnel like him, bulky and armed to the teeth. Maybe it’s not what he wants to do, but he’s good at it. 

Space. The final frontier. They tell you life is better out here, out in the cold and dark and impossible. But to him it feels like unfamiliar familiarity, like wonders that dull with every stop. Kisame sees the same faces every day as they travel and he thinks he could see them all die and not care very much—maybe a few he’d mourn, but he’d get over it. You’d think the isolation of space travel would result in forced, necessary friendships. Instead it feels like he’s in a cage. A fishbowl. 

Maybe the cold and dark has infected him. Filled his lungs with ice water, wrapped his heart in thorns. He wonders exactly when people became meaningless.

He wonders if it’s just him, or if it’s this job. 

* * *

The ship is always active. There is no day or night in the vacuum of space, just clocks and shifts. His nighttime is another worker’s start of the day. He should be sleeping now, but his mind is racing once more—filled to the brim with thoughts of existentialism. 

He wanders the halls, passing both humans and non-humans alike. He doesn’t stand out too much here, despite the blue skin and shark-like mouth. In this day and age he isn’t spared more than a second glance. It’s different from his home world. 

(Maybe the Federation is good for one thing.)

The Captain is a decent man, but Kisame can’t bring himself to play with words like trust—not when power corrupts and starves. 

He trades his holographic view of space for the real thing, wandering down one of the long halls with floor to ceiling windows. Thick and impenetrable, built to withstand the crushing force of space. It feels dangerous, standing so close, pressing his fingers to glass and leaving faint smudges. The chill seeps through.

He hasn’t slept well in weeks.

“What a surprise.”

Kisame glances away from the speckled black, lips faintly pulled back over his teeth. “You.”

“That’s not a very nice way to greet someone.” Kabuto smiles, a false, silky thing. He’s a snake in the grass, a shapeshifter who wears personalities for his own enjoyment. A liar without loyalties and everything Kisame hates in a person.

“That’s not a very nice smile to show someone.” He retorts, dropping his hand from the glass.

The practiced smile fades, but the amusement stays. That’s almost more annoying. 

“You look like you haven’t slept well, Hoshigaki. If I recall correctly, you’re supposed to be off duty right now.”

Kisame doesn’t take joy in being needlessly cruel. He’s curt and efficient, likes to get his blood pumping and enjoys a good fight. Every time this two-faced prick shows his face, Kisame wonders how much trouble he’d get in for tossing the guy out of the airlock. It’s only the tentative respect for authority Kisame holds for the Captain that stops him.

“Cut the small talk, Yakushi.”

The silver-haired man’s eyes crinkle at the corners, his eyes empty and calculating—they look like black holes. Eating and eating and eating with no regard for anything and anyone. 

“I’m merely concerned about a fellow comrade. As one of the ship’s doctors, your health is my responsibility.”

That ugly smile and insincere proclamations are exactly why Kisame prefers to take all his health related issues to the spunky pink one. She packs a mean wallop and wears her heart on her sleeve—and he can respect that, even if he thinks she’s too open for hurt. That honesty is easier to trust than the literal viper before his eyes.

“Your concern isn’t necessary, I’m fine.” Kisame flashes his teeth, “What, is it illegal to take a stroll?”

“If you’re sure…” Kabuto looks out to the wide expanse of infinite void. His glasses gleam with the reflection of rocket flames and starshine. He’s such a normal looking guy, slender and a little mousey. Inconspicuous. But that shit personality made him stand out when needed. 

Kisame really wonders how the guy got a job on this ship to begin with. Apparently having a degree meant everything—trustworthiness didn’t mean jack, and that’s exactly how corruption blooms. He wouldn’t be surprised if the little rat sold them out to radical Klingon forces or space pirates.

The urge to spit at Kabuto’s feet rose, but Kisame refrained. He’d have to clean up the mess.

“I wonder if a cold is going around.” Kabuto hums, faux concern in his voice. “Itachi wasn’t looking so good either.”

Kisame wonders if there’s anything real about the other man.

“Itachi will be fine,” he replies, seeing right through the silver-haired man’s attempt at getting a rise out of him. “We’ve got Pinky.”

Kabuto huffs. It’s not nice. His voice is light and callous, “Sakura is a talented medic, but she still has much to learn. As it stands, I’m sure her current position was only earned because she’s married into the esteemed  _ Uchiha. _ ”

“Sounds like you’re jealous.”

Their gazes meet, falsified kindness and ice. Kisame feels something ugly rise in his chest. Maybe the endless emptiness of space isn’t as ingrained within him as he thought. He thinks of quiet kindness and rambunctious yelling, of simple interactions and reminders and the halo of gold that makes up his Captain’s hair—like someone had plucked the very stars from the fabric of the universe and fashioned them into fine strands.

(He thinks of red eyes. He thinks of trust he won’t let himself feel.)

Kabuto presses his lips together, he eyes narrowed into crescents like that damned Hatake. “Whatever would make you think that? I’m only voicing a concern. I wasn’t aware the two of you were friends.”

Kisame grins. It’s not filled with falsities and shadows like the other’s, it’s filled with promises and teeth. “Honesty isn’t your strong suit. You know, I think I’m feeling tired now—thanks for the boring talk, really put me to sleep.”

He begins to walk, closing in on Kabuto. There is darkness between them that inhales and exhales like a living thing. Their shoulders don’t brush when Kisame passes.

“See?” He whispers, like a funny secret between friends. Kabuto glances up at him with a pasted on smile and a flinty stare. “Honesty. Easy.” 

* * *

He goes back to his room and sleeps like a baby. Maybe tomorrow—the ship's definition of tomorrow—he’ll visit those he pretends aren’t friends.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow / Support me on [Tumblr](https://spideyfoof.tumblr.com/) and let me know if you'd like to see more of this AU!


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